He Finally Becomes Fan Favorite

Baseball without George Steinbrenner is like a day with sunshine.

Start spreading the news. He’s leaving today. No longer be a part of it. New York, New York.

These vagabond shoes are walking away. He got thrown out at home. New York, New York.

George wants to wake up in the city that never sweeps. To find he’s out with the trash. Top of the heap.

Sing it, Liza.

Yes, there’s one fewer worm in the Apple today.

Holy cow, Phil Rizzuto. Kiss him goodby.

Boss George, the Yankee shipper, got it exactly the way he gave it. He got fired. Canned. Dumped. Bounced. Axed. Cut. Released. Put on waivers. Sent down.

He’s lucky the Yankees didn’t ship him to Columbus.

Don’t be looking for Steinbrenner or Donald Trump or Leona Helmsley at the unemployment office, but don’t expect much laughing on the way to the bank.

At last we have shed ourselves of the George, a guy who didn’t have all his seams on his fastball, if you know what I mean.

The commissioner of baseball has turned out to be a pretty tough cookie. Maybe that’s what happens when you grow up with the name Fay.

My first reaction Monday was that Steinbrenner got off light. Then I changed my mind. They took the star off his dressing-room door. That’s good enough for me.

George needs the spotlight. He feeds off it, like Gloria Swanson in “Sunset Boulevard.” Without it, George can’t be George. He’s just some guy in a suit and tie.

Everybody is saying that George might still run the Yankees from backstage or maybe the rafters. Phantom of the Bronx.

I guess they picture George wearing half a mask. Or George sneaking into the stadium in Groucho glasses or a phony Castro beard.

If you ever see somebody in a wig and a size-24 dress singing the national anthem, it could be George, trying to sneak in.

One of the conditions of Fay Vincent’s verdict was that George has to give Fay a call whenever he wants to come out to the park. Somehow I can’t see Georgie Boy peeking through a knothole.

While I haven’t read the entire ruling yet, I hear George also must get Fay’s permission when he wants to walk the dog, leave the dinner table, stay up late or sleep overnight at a friend’s house.

The commissioner has become Ward Cleaver to Steinbrenner’s Beaver.

Yet after giving it more thought, I suppose Vincent really did throw the book at the Yankee owner, high and inside. There aren’t many businesses where somebody can have the owner removed, except maybe mortgage banking.

Tom Lasorda, one of the few men alive who hasn’t managed the Yankees, said Monday: “George has been a colorful owner, but I think it’s time for him to sit back, relax and let somebody else do the driving.”

Lou Piniella, also in Dodger Stadium on Monday, had this revealing comment on the man who hired and fired him: “No comment.”

Lou’s no dope. He knows if he isn’t careful, some New York newspaper will run some headline like: “Lou to George: Drop Dead.”

Steinbrenner being busted from big-buck general to buck private is big, big news in New York. Some people think he’s the most misunderstood man alive. Others consider him the designated Hitler.

Either way, George would be on Page 1 in New York today even if somebody replaced the Statue of Liberty with a life-sized replica of Connie Chung.

I like this “permanent ineligible list” that George is now on. I’d like to put my last girlfriend on it.

George is eligible to do consultations with the Yankees, but not on free agency and maybe not on trades. This means he can give advice on interior decorating and frozen-malt sales.

There also is the matter of who will replace Steinbrenner as the team’s head cheese.

If, for example, the job goes to Son of Steinbrenner and stays in the family, then, yes, George got off easy. I forget his kid’s name. Gomez or Fester or Pugsley, something like that.

For 18 years, George Steinbrenner has ruled the Yankees with an iron skull. He has gotten rid of so many great players, Yankee Stadium ought to erect a monument to him--outside Yankee Stadium.

I have always considered Steinbrenner to be living proof that money can’t buy you brains.

Is George evil? Of course not. He is just a rich nincompoop who should have been famous for 18 minutes instead of for 18 years.

Have we heard the last of George? Probably not. He’ll turn up like a million bad pennies.

At least George got something Monday that he has wanted his whole life: a Yankee Stadium standing ovation. Gosh, if he’d known he would be this popular, he would have gotten himself fired years ago.

By the way, I still don’t know what he did wrong. But aren’t you glad he did it?